


Under The Sea

by avoidingavoidance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Underwater Sex, and also a very nice dick, everything is fine, i really don't know how to tag this, plaxum has multiple reproductive capabilities, shiro is back and well rested and everything is fine, this takes place several years into voltron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 04:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12269325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avoidingavoidance/pseuds/avoidingavoidance
Summary: The paladins of Voltron are finally taking a long-overdue trip to visit the mermaids, and Lance couldn't be happier. Fortunately, an old friend is just as happy to see him, if not more so than he could have expected.





	Under The Sea

Lance has a pretty good idea of how interplanetary diplomacy works by now. He’s been doing the whole ‘paladin of Voltron’ thing for god knows how long, and he’s learned that it’s not all blasting druidic monstrosities and slicing Galra battleships in half. 

Still, he can’t help but find himself loudly bored by the more tame aspects of running a well-organized rebellion. Visiting allied planets, eating their food and chatting with their nobles, dressing up all fancy, etc. As good as Lance looks in just about everything, it’s not as exciting as zipping through space in a giant robot cat.

Things are a little different this time.

Lance is practically vibrating with excitement at his station as Allura guides the castle-ship out of a wormhole, bringing it into steady orbit around a small ice planet, all twinkling whites and blues in the dim light of the distant sun.

“Good lord, Lance,” Pidge groans for the fifth time, staring at Lance over their glasses. “Can you keep it in your pants for a minute?”

“Pidge, we’re visiting the _mermaids,_ ” Lance blurts, leaning over the arm of his seat in his enthusiasm. “Real mermaids! Who _like_ me!”

Pidge gives him an incredibly unamused look, then sighs and turns back to their own display before a fond smile can make its way across their face. Luckily, Lance’s attention has already turned forward, eagerly watching the planet come closer.

Queen Luxia had extended an invitation for a diplomatic visit some time ago, but between the Galra throwing their usual temper tantrums and all the other planets requesting visits and aid, it’s been a while since Voltron passed through this quadrant. Lance has been quite vocal about his displeasure at the fact, ever since Allura let slip that she’d been in contact with his favorite aliens thus far. Now, though, the time has finally come, and Lance is so ready to go back under the sea and flirt with some pretty, giggly mermaids.

\--

He hadn’t thought it was possible, but Lance seems to have forgotten exactly how pretty the mermaids are.

All hopes he’d had of striding out of his lion, looking tall and handsome and confident, are just about dashed the moment he sees Queen Luxia again, her kind smile widening as he and the other paladins float toward them. She and her cohort of advisors are waiting for them outside the castle, her hands folded delicately in front of her, her tail idly swishing through the chilly water. Lance might already be choking on his own tongue.

Allura steps forward ahead of the others and allows the queen to clasp her hands, giving a warm smile of her own. “Queen Luxia, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance in person. I’ve heard so much.” And she has, although not much of it useful, at least when it’s coming from Lance.

“Paladins of Voltron, our honored friends. Please, come inside.” She squeezes Allura’s hands gently, then pulls away and gestures toward the wide open doors. “Plaxum is waiting inside with the bubble coral. Make yourselves at home.”

As they move inside, Hunk sidles up next to Lance and whispers, “Think we’ll be safe and warm?”

“God, Hunk,” Lance groans, elbowing his friend in the side as he glances over his shoulder. “She was _mind-controlled._ ”

“Yeah, and so was I.” Hunk crosses his arms, giving Lance the side-eye. “You’re telling me I’m not allowed to be a little salty about it?”

“I’m gonna unzip your suit, we’ll see how salty you get then.”

With a dramatic gasp, Hunk turns and floats back toward Shiro, who’s already waiting to hear Hunk complain, as always. Lance grins at them, then turns forward again, and runs straight into Plaxum.

Specifically, Plaxum’s chest, which is about eye level at the moment, and much softer than it looks.

He reels back as quickly as he can manage underwater, which is not exactly the pinnacle of graceful, but before he can stutter out an apology, Plaxum is already clasping his hands in hers. “Oh, Lance!” She gives him an absolutely radiant smile, which only brightens as Lance turns redder and redder. “It is wonderful to see you.”

“O-oh, yeah, I, um,” Lance manages, blinking down at where her webbed fingers rest over top of his. 

Plaxum’s face falls somewhat, which sends Lance’s stomach swooping down around his knees. “You... remember me, don’t you?”

“Of course!” he blurts. She blinks her wide black eyes down at him, her head tilted curiously. He recovers with a crooked grin and moves one of his hands on top of hers, squeezing reassuringly. “How could I ever forget _you,_ Plaxum?”

She stares down at their hands for a moment, and then Lance is once again struck speechless as he watches her... blush. He guesses.

The thin, lacy frills of her gills flush dark red, and her face darkens as well to a deeper shade of blue. He discovers then that mermaids apparently have _freckles,_ or at least something that comes close; there are spots all across her face that don’t flush, like pale little pinpricks of glitter, and her little antennae things stand up straight, then wiggle slightly. 

Lance isn’t entirely sure what kind of reaction that is, but he’s fairly sure it’s adorable, and is thus once again choking on his tongue.

Plaxum gets herself together faster than he does, and moves her hand back on top of his with a firm pat and a warm smile. The blush on her face recedes quickly, but the deep red of her gills lingers as she turns away and grabs the conch shell that provides their air bubbles. She moves between each of the paladins, giving them each a bubble so they can take off their helmets. Lance isn’t watching that closely, but he wonders if she draws her pointed nails gently along the nape of everyone else’s neck as well.

On their way to the dining hall, Queen Luxia guides everyone past her throne room, an unfortunately familiar sight for both Lance and Hunk. Lance looks over at his friend, then follows his uncomfortable gaze to near the ceiling, where there’s still a Lance-sized dent in the wall. 

They’re past this. They’ve already been through the part where Hunk apologizes forever for what he did while he was brain-swished, but the guilty look still passes over his face as he glances back at Lance. As always, Lance just gives him a soothing smile and rests his hand on his bicep, squeezing gently. 

Hunk smiles gratefully, resting his hand on Lance’s for a moment before they continue down the hall. 

Lance thinks he feels someone’s eyes on him, but when he turns and looks around, all he sees is Plaxum busying herself with some of the shells hanging from her waist, sucking idly on her lower lip.

\--

Dinner passes without much fanfare; the queen seems to have lost her taste for flashy dinner entertainment, as the curtains are tied off on either side of the empty stage for the whole meal. The food is fine too. Hunk admittedly watches everyone else eat some first, squinting suspiciously at his plate, before a reassuring pat from Shiro finally soothes him enough to eat. The queen seems to notice, but she doesn’t bring it up, merely ducking her head slightly. 

After dinner, Queen Luxia whisks Allura and Shiro away for whatever it is good diplomats do, leaving the rest of the paladins in the hands of her advisors.

Lance is just using one of his best sea-themed pickup lines on a giggly officer when he feels a cool, gentle hand on his shoulder. When he turns, charm already turned up to eleven, Plaxum is smiling widely, her antennae wiggling slightly. 

“Lance, may I show you something?” 

His own grin widens, and he gives her his sharpest finger guns. “You can show me the world, baby.”

Plaxum covers her laugh with her hand, then gestures for him to follow her. 

As they move down a long hallway, he can’t help but notice that she’s swimming slightly lower than she had earlier, keeping them at roughly the same height where she can. She leads him to a sticky-looking door, where she reaches down to one of the starfish stuck to her tail. He wants to watch as she pries an old-looking key from under the stubbornly-clinging creature, but he finds himself distracted for a moment by the way her iridescent scales seem to flicker and glow in the wavering light.

When Plaxum finally wrests the key from the cranky starfish, she offers him an apologetic smile, her tail flicking under her. That’s distracting too, just because the lines of her strong tail are so easy to follow with his eyes, down to where her fins drift and spread lazily in the water.

Lance has _always_ had a thing for mermaids.

He shakes his head to focus himself as Plaxum guides him into what looks like a cluttered workshop, similar to Hunk’s. “What is all this stuff?”

She closes the door behind them, then swims over to one of the counters, a prideful smile spreading across her face. “Queen Luxia took me on as her head of technology,” she explains. “She originally gave Blumfump the position, but after he spent several months unsuccessfully developing a way to connect psychically with sea turtles, she had to move him to... a more fitting position.”

Lance snorts at that, crossing his arms loosely. “What, court jester?”

Plaxum giggles, the sound downright musical, then waves her hand slightly. “No, no. Close. He is now our court historian, for better or for worse. Strange as he is, he seems to have a knack for recording things precisely, as long as there’s no mystery around them.” Lance tilts his head in question, so Plaxum gives a long sigh. “If we’re not completely transparent with him, his recordings tend to, um. Wander.”

“Oh, like when he gave us like ten wrong theories for how the brain-swishing was happening?”

With another long, exasperated sigh, as if she hadn’t bought right into it too, Plaxum nods. “Yes, exactly. The queen thinks it’s fine, though. It encourages complete openness in our village, which the queen is rather eager to maintain after everything that happened.” 

“I can get behind that.” Lance hums, leaning his hip against a counter. “So this is where you work, then?”

Plaxum perks up and nods, her antennae wiggling excitedly. “Yes, I currently have a number of things I’m developing.” Her smile quirks a little shyly then as she glances at Lance out of the corner of her eye. Well, he assumes, anyway. “Some of them are, as you say... kind of cool.”

Lance’s heart does a weird little jiggle as he realizes that Plaxum is, in fact, a giant nerd. People having pride in their work is something Lance always likes to see, though, so he grins and moves closer.

“There’s this,” she says quickly, crossing the room with a flick of her powerful tail. At first glance, it kind of looks like a trident, but the barbed prongs seem to be moving in an incredibly unnerving fashion whenever he isn’t looking directly at it. Plaxum wraps her hands around the staff and whirls around, already beaming with pride. “While the village was under the influence of the Baku, our weapons technology, um... disintegrated. I think it was lackluster even before we delved beneath the surface. So, the queen has asked me to develop some new defensive items for everyone, just in case something else comes down from the planet with ill intent.”

Lance hums and squints at the staff, but most of him is screaming to keep his distance, so he just offers her a wobbly smile and nods. “I don’t want to know what it does, do I.”

“No, no, not in the least,” Plaxum chirps. “It’s truly awful, at least at this stage of development. It requires some, um. Fine-tuning.” She smiles widely at him, seemingly unconcerned by the fact that the staff seems to be groaning mournfully. 

“Oh, this one should be slightly less horrifying,” she says, already dropping the somewhat sentient trident back on its counter. Lance is more than happy to scoot after her, maybe using his suit’s boosters to put a little more distance between himself and the staff.

Plaxum takes him around her workshop, showing him a wide variety of things in varying stages of development, including a modified version of Blumfump’s turtle-speaker, which she swears is more useful and thus less crazy than his. 

“So, wait,” Lance says, scratching the back of his head. “You made all this yourself?”

“Yes.” She puffs her chest out, and her gills flare with pride. It’s kind of charming. 

He glances at the turtle-speaker she’s holding, which looks something like a conch shell that got hit by a truck and put back together by a stray robotics class, then smiles up at her. “You should really show Hunk some of this stuff, I think you guys would really hit it off.”

Plaxum falters then, her hands clutching the device to her chest slightly. “Hunk?” Lance nods, and she blinks, before her shoulders sag slightly. “Oh, he is your mate, correct?”

Lance chokes on his own tongue again. “G-god, no! I mean, I love the dude, but no, we’re not. Together. Like that.”

She tilts her head, confused. “But you...” Her eyes narrow in thought, before they widen again, her whole body perking up, her little antennae going nuts. “You do not share our mating rituals!”

He can feel his entire body going up in flames as he helplessly gives a half-nod, half-shrug kind of gesture.

“ _Oh,_ I see,” she hums, dropping the device back on the counter and swooping into his personal space. “So earlier, when you placed your hand on his arm, that was not a declaration of, um, romantic affection?” Lance shakes his head rapidly, still at a loss for words. “Oh, that is so _interesting._ ”

Clearing his throat slightly, Lance stands up straighter and puts his hands on his hips, trying his best to fake confidence. “I-is that a gesture of romantic affection here?”

“Yes, of a sort,” she says, dragging her thumb thoughtfully over her chin. “And the way he placed his hand over yours indicates that he returns that affection, but if it is not that way in your culture...”

Lance rubs the back of his neck somewhat awkwardly. “It was, um. Meant to make him feel better. I think he still feels bad for beating the crap out of me when he was brain-swished. Him putting his hand on mine was... I dunno, gratitude? Something like that.”

“How fascinating.” Plaxum reaches down to one of the shells hanging from her waist, stroking one long finger along the underside to coax it into opening itself, revealing what looks like a tiny notepad. When she pulls it out, he sees that it is undeniably a little notebook, fairly worn with use.

Unable to help himself, Lance teases, “You taking notes on me?”

Plaxum clutches the notepad to her chest, her gills flushing again. Lance tries not to fall over. “I-is that alright? I just—I don’t want to forget, and I’m sure the queen would appreciate the information—”

“Plaxum, it’s totally fine,” Lance laughs, and he almost reaches out to touch her arm before he remembers that it means something completely different to her. His fingers curl hesitantly in the water between them, before he crosses his arms again and tilts his head. “I think it’s good to have a healthy interest in other aliens when you’re trying to overthrow an evil empire with them.”

Sucking on her lower lip again, Plaxum runs her fingers along the edge of her little notebook, before she murmurs, “And are you... interested?”

Lance blinks widely at her. She’s blushing again, her pale freckles coming out like twilight stars, her gaze lowered to the floor between them.

She’s so cute. He can’t help but try.

He’s not expecting it to work, really. It never does. Even so, he moves closer to her, and even knowing what it means, he brushes his knuckles up her smooth arm, then breathes, “I’m _very_ interested.”

It never works. Never. Every other human and alien in the galaxy has blown him off so far.

So that’s why, when Plaxum hums, then leans down and presses her cool lips against his, Lance’s brain kind of explodes.

He freezes up for a moment, long enough for her to tilt her head and slot their lips more firmly together, before reeling back with an undignified squeak. He can feel all the blood in his body rushing to his face, so he cups his hands over his lips and just stares.

She stares right back at him, her fingers still fidgeting with her notebook. “Are you alright?”

Lance shakes his head, then nods rapidly, his knees all but knocking together. Good thing he can’t actually collapse in water. “Y-yeah, I um. Wow.”

“Oh, does your species not—”

“No, no, we do,” he blurts. “I just, um.”

She peers at him thoughtfully, then lowers her gaze again. “Do you not want to...?”

Lance kicks himself in the ass. He has to get it together, for both their sakes. “I-it’s not that, Plaxum.” She peers up at him again, her dark eyes shining like oil. “It’s just...” He runs his hands through his hair and groans, leaning heavily against the counter. “I’m not used to... this.”

Understandably confused, Plaxum tilts her head. “But you flirt with all the officers. This visit and the last one. How could you not be used to having your affections returned?” All Lance can do in response is give her a kind of miserable look. Fortunately, she seems to understand. She sets her notebook down on the counter and floats closer to him, peering down at his still-flushed face.

“So you are not used to it,” she murmurs, “But you are not averse to it?”

“Right,” Lance mumbles in return, trying and failing to will the blush off his face. 

“Well, then,” she says, a sneaky smile crossing her face as she moves even closer, all but looming over him as she moves her hands to rest on his narrow waist. “May I help you get used to it?”

Lance chokes on his own tongue, but nods, only swooning slightly at the smug face Plaxum gives him.

“Earlier, Lance, when I told you that placing one’s hand over another’s is a gesture of romantic affection, I may not have been entirely honest with you.” Lance raises his eyebrows, then squawks as Plaxum easily manhandles him up onto one of the fortunately empty counters. She slinks between his thighs, easily making room for herself, before she leans into Lance’s space and smirks. “It is a distinctly sexual gesture.”

Any hope Lance had of his blush going away is dead. He’s on fire, he’s sure of it, and the almost hungry way Plaxum is looking at him isn’t helping. In fact, it’s just kind of redirecting whatever blood isn’t in his face directly to his dick. He thinks about it, though, then squints at Plaxum. “Wait, it’s a sex thing?”

“Yes.”

He raises a critical eyebrow. “Then why is it your general greeting?”

She blinks widely, then rubs her chin thoughtfully. “Is it? Oh, yes, I suppose I can see how they are similar... how odd.” She straightens up and holds her hands out, clasping his hands the way she had when they arrived. “See, it’s all in how you hold them. When we greet you, our hands embrace yours, supporting and sheltering you.” She sucks on her bottom lip again, then slides one of her hands between Lance’s. “When they intermingle, like this... it suggests something different, does it not?”

Lance blinks down at their hands, then tilts his head. “Um. I suppose so?” He grins up at her and laughs, “Are you saying the way I mingle our hands is sexy?”

Plaxum giggles, but she flushes again and glances away as she nods. “Yes, very much so. The fit is... particularly pleasant.”

Once again, unused to having his advances appreciated, let alone returned, Lance just gives kind of a strangled hum. He remembers vaguely the way she had flushed when he did it earlier, realizing belatedly that she’d been turned on.

He swallows heavily, then scoots closer to the edge of the counter, spreading his knees wider around her waist. She blinks at him, then smiles widely, retrieving her hands and spreading them over the tops of his thighs. Her thumbs run curiously along where his thighs meet his body, the touch almost soothing if not for how hot it makes Lance. He licks his lips and guides her closer with a knuckle under her chin, and Plaxum hums warmly as she closes the distance between them.

Lance hadn’t noticed the first time, seeing as he’d been so focused on Plaxum kissing him, but the air bubble around his head almost seems to change its shape to accommodate their lips touching. He can feel her so clearly like this, her soft, thin lips parting invitingly, and it’s like there’s nothing between them when he tilts his head and dips his tongue between her lips.

Plaxum sighs and tangles their tongues, her own thankfully humanoid, before she leans forward into him, their bodies pressed firmly together. Her thumbs are still rubbing along his inner thighs, dangerously close to where his growing arousal is arched along his hip, trapped almost cruelly by his overly tight suit. 

The thought brings him pause. He sucks gently on Plaxum’s lower lip as he pulls back, waiting until she opens her eyes again to bring up a fairly important point.

“So, uh, how exactly are we gonna fit Tab A into Slot B?”

She gives him a very confused frown. “I do not think my translator understood that.”

Lance blinks, then shrugs. “Okay, fair. No Earth slang. Um... how are we going to...?” He swallows and tenses slightly. “U-unless you just want to kiss! I’m down for whatever. I’m flexible. Very flexible. P-pretty flexible.”

Plaxum laughs at his flustering, bright and pretty, before she leans away, dragging her hands down to his knees. “I am interested in this flexibility,” she chuckles, and he can’t really tell, but he swears he feels her eyes dragging languidly down his body. “Why don’t we, ah. See what we’re working with.”

Lance nods dimly, then shakes his head clear and looks around. “Is it safe down here? Like, is there some terrible freezing crushing pressure or something?”

She tilts her head in thought. “The pressure isn’t crushing, I do not believe. Only around fourteen geerzarks. Perfectly suitable for life on our planet.” She pauses. “Well, life _native_ to our planet.”

With another dim nod, Lance reaches for his helmet, then calls Pidge.

“I’m neck deep in deep sea mapping technology and loving it, Lance, this better be important.”

“Your neck isn’t even that high up and it’s a matter of life and death, Pidge.” Plaxum covers her giggle with her hand. Pidge squawks at the dig at their height, luckily recognizing by Lance’s tone that it’s not actually an emergency. He shushes them, giving his helmet a shake as if it’ll rattle the exasperation out of them, then says, “What is a geerzark?”

“It’s a unit of pressure. Why do you ask?”

Lance gives his helmet a long, dry grimace, earning himself another laugh from Plaxum. The video comms aren’t on, but it’s as if Pidge can see the face he’s making anyway. “ _Oh._ Wow, okay. Yeah, you won’t get crushed if you’re outside of your suit down here. We’re pretty far underwater, but for some reason it’s like it doesn’t weigh anything. Or maybe—”

“Okay, Pidge, thank you!” Lance goes to put his helmet back down, then thinks of something else. “Hey, is it—”

“It’s kinda chilly, but I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” comes their smarmy reply to his unspoken question. 

Before they can rib him any further, he closes the call and drops his helmet back onto the counter, taking a deep breath to get himself back in the zone. Before he can center himself, though, Plaxum floats close again and grabs his hand. “If you are still concerned,” she breathes, guiding his palm to her soft stomach and pressing it there firmly, “I am not being crushed, am I?”

Lance swallows heavily, spreading his fingers over her pale blue skin. He shakes his head, then looks back up at her, licking his lips at her satisfied smile.

“Your hand is so warm,” she sighs, trailing her knuckles up his forearm. “Is all of you this warm?”

“G-guess you’ll have to find out,” Lance laughs, giving her a crooked grin when she giggles in return.

“I suppose so.” She slinks back slightly, making sure Lance is still looking at her, as if he could look anywhere else. Confident with his undivided attention, Plaxum shrugs off the vaguely kelpy stole she keeps draped around her elbows, tossing it away and letting it float off into a wall. Her hands move to her belt then, the wide band coming off with surprising ease and taking her dangling bands of shells (mer-pockets?) with it. 

Lance leans forward, entranced by the way she drags her narrow thumb in a firm line down between her breasts, over her stomach, down to where her body melds into her tail. It’s more than just an enticing show, though; her long hair slips over her shoulder as she peels away a tight, latex-like covering from her upper body, some kind of shirt covering her breasts.

She flings that away too and gives Lance a heated look from under her eyelashes, and Lance can’t help but stare.

“You’re—” he chokes out. She smiles at him, coyly covering her breasts with her hands, her dark, hard nipples visible beneath the thin webbing between her fingers. “You’re so _cute,_ ” Lance manages finally, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter.

“Thank you,” she hums. He reaches out to caress her waist, maybe pull her closer, but she wiggles deftly away from his hand with a playful grin. “I believe it is your turn now?”

“O-oh,” Lance mumbles. “Right.” He swallows again, then reaches for the hem of his billowy shirt. Everyone had worn some sort of flowy formal wear from Allura’s endless closets, little more than loose, sheer fabric to cover their admittedly lackluster unarmored suits. 

It’s not that he’s never been naked around anyone, in a sexual way or any other. It’s more that it’s kind of been a while, and Plaxum seems so _eager_ to see him naked, to fool around with him. He can’t help but feel a little shy. And maybe a little dumb when he remembers the air bubble around his head, but Plaxum hasn’t seemed to mind it thus far.

Lance removes his top with a huff, cramming it into his helmet before leaning back against the wall to work on the pants.

Before he can get too far, Plaxum says, “Allow me?” Lance blinks up at her, then nods, at which she grins and hooks her fingers in the loose waistband of his pants. She tugs them off easily, helpfully stuffing them into his helmet as well, which earns her a nervous smile. 

When he reaches up to the nape of his neck and releases the suit’s catch, he glances at her out of the corner of his eye and stutters, “U-um. Pidge said the water’s gonna be cold, so, uh.” Plaxum just blinks curiously, watching Lance flush dark again. “It might not uh—look all that impressive. Because shrinkage. Is all.” She blinks again, but nods, clearly not sure what he means. He grumbles to himself, then pulls his suit away from his upper body before he can waffle much more.

Plaxum watches intently as he wiggles out of his suit. Triggering the release is supposed to make the suits looser and thus easier to pull off, but Lance knows well enough that they’re still kind of awkward, especially wet and when he’s got a half-chub. 

As he shoves the suit down over his hips, Plaxum floats closer, very clearly checking out every inch of him as he goes. She reaches out slightly as if to touch his chest, but stops herself, waiting for him to finish first. Once he’s got it down to midthigh, and she’s gotten more than a good look at his dick, she perks up again, her antennae practically vibrating.

“You have one too!” she blurts, pointing excitedly at his dick. He stares up at her, frozen midway through wrangling the suit over his knees. He looks down, just to double-check her meaning, then snaps his eyes back up to hers.

“You, um. Have one of these?”

“Yes! Oh, how convenient.” She floats closer, her hair falling forward over her shoulders in a slow wave. “Can you also carry young?”

Lance chokes slightly, giving up on his suit for now. “Can I what now?”

Plaxum laughs. “When you take a mate, can you incubate broodlings?”

Blinking widely, Lance realizes what she’s asking. “Oh, um. No.” He sits up straighter and clarifies, “People of my species, uh. Well...” She tilts her head curiously, watching Lance scramble to remember how Pidge had explained it one time. “I don’t have that sort of reproductive capability.”

“At all? Do you lay eggs?”

Lance snorts, unable to help himself. “No, no. See, we have people who, uh. Can carry babies inside them, and then people who just contribute to making said babies.” He watches Plaxum quietly mouth the word ‘babies,’ as if the word is foreign to her. “I’m the contributing type.”

“I see,” she says, examining him more closely. He squirms under her gaze; he’d gone pretty soft during the whole alien biology bit, and the water is on the colder side, so. Plaxum doesn’t have any other human to compare him too, but he still doesn’t want her to take his shrinkage as his normal state.

Unfazed, she smiles up at him again. “My people can either contribute or carry, as you say. It’s very dependent on the mates.” Lance blinks at that, tilting his head. “Usually it’s the larger mate that carries, to give the young plenty of room to grow. And in this instance—” She perks up suddenly, her antennae poking straight up. “Oh, that would be me!”

Lance gives her a wobbly smile.

She presses her hands to her cheeks and sighs dreamily. “How unusual, I _never_ get to be the carrier. I’m so small. I’ve thought about it so many times, though. It would be wonderful to be the one being doted on for once.”

Eyebrows shooting up, Lance blurts, “Have you, uh, contributed to many young?”

“Oh, of course.” She smiles at him again. “Forty-two, to be exact, among several very capable mates.” She seems oblivious to Lance’s alarmed spluttering as she continues. “And for each one, I have been the contributor, as you call it.” Plaxum sighs again, her eyes closed. “How I would love to carry, but unfortunately, I think a paladin of Voltron would not have the time to give me the gestational pampering I would require.”

Lance nods vaguely, then says, “Would it even work? Like...” He gestures between them.

Plaxum chuckles at that. “Haven’t you seen the diversity in my species’ appearances? We have many half-breeds living proudly among us.”

“O-oh.”

She shakes her head again, her fingers toying idly with her hair. “But I think it is not the time for that, as much as it would please me.” Plaxum slinks closer again, sliding between his knees and leaning into his personal space. “I think instead,” she breathes, closing the distance between them, her lips brushing his. “You should show me how you like to be touched.”

Lance swallows heavily and nods, licking his lips. Heat coils low in his gut again, seemingly undeterred by the cold water and all the talk of mating. He closes his eyes and leans into her, drinking in her pleased hum. She rests her hands on the tops of his thighs again, her thumbs once more finding his sensitive inner thighs and sending a thrill of arousal through him. 

“I-if I do anything you don’t like, just tell me,” he mumbles, nudging his nose against hers. 

“Of course,” she replies. “And you as well.”

Lance nods, swallowing again, before he catches her lips again, his eyes sliding closed. She pushes closer, nibbling gently at his flushed lips, so Lance links his ankles behind her, keeping her close as he rests his hands on her waist.

This time, he lets his hands wander, exploring her smooth skin, the curve of her waist, before sliding them up and gently cupping her breasts. She sighs hot against him, her tongue flicking playfully between his lips. Encouraged, Lance rubs his thumbs over her dark nipples, teasing them into firm peaks, squeezing her breasts lightly and groaning at how nicely they fit in his palms.

Plaxum arches her chest into his hands, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Lance wants to bury his face in her long neck, but he’s worried that her gills might be sensitive or delicate, so he settles for kissing slowly along the line of her jaw. She hums at that, clearly pleased. She lets Lance make his way toward the corner of her jaw, rolling her nipples between his fingers, before she pulls away slightly and glances between them.

“Oh, this is lovely,” she hums once she sees how embarrassingly hard he is. He squeezes his thighs together somewhat, but the genuine appreciation on her face reassures him. Without preamble, Plaxum wraps her hand around him, squeezing ever so gently and carefully watching his expression. He licks his lips and reaches for her wrist, wordlessly showing her how he likes to be stroked. 

She’s a quick learner, and doesn’t need his guidance for long before she has him squirming on the counter. He leans back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, thighs spreading invitingly. Plaxum takes the opportunity to check him out further, carefully running her other fingers over his balls, then stroking underneath, until they pause at his ass.

Lance twitches slightly at the touch, but before she can ask, he stutters, “Y-you can touch me there. I, um. I like it.”

“Oh?” That smug smile comes back over her face for a moment as she rubs the pad of her thumb against his entrance in teasing circles. “How much touching can you handle?”

It’s Lance’s turn to give her a smug look, finally. He grins at her, spreading his thighs, and says, “More than you might expect.”

Plaxum sucks her lower lip between her teeth again, her breath shivering out of her as she looks between them again. “It’s so small...”

“It stretches,” he says. “With some coaxing.” He sits up again though, dragging his tongue along her jaw again before whispering, “Why don’t you show me yours, and we’ll go from there?”

She grins and nudges her nose against his ear. “Sounds good to me.”

Lance licks his lips and makes himself comfortable against the wall as she floats back a bit, resting his hand around his cock in her absence. He props one heel up on the edge of the counter, too, making sure to give her a good look at him, which she clearly appreciates. 

Her hands move slowly down her stomach, teasing him in return, dragging her knuckles down until her thumb brushes past a slit low on her torso, right about where things sit on a human. He hums, watching her spread it open slightly, and wonders how he never noticed it before. 

Her slit flushes as she drags her thumb over it, and Lance discovers with no small amount of delight that she has those pale freckles there, too. She smirks at him, preening at his attention, her free hand toying idly with one of her nipples. Looking to tease him further, Plaxum dips her thumb inside the slit, pressing it into herself with a shiver. Her tail curls in a little spiral under her as she does, her fins flicking through the water.

Lance hadn’t really thought about the logistics of underwater sex, but he realizes after a moment that she’s wet, even while surrounded by water. It makes sense, but even more than that, it turns him on like crazy.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, holding his free hand out to her. She smiles widely and slinks forward, pressing her chest against his and letting him draw her into a deep kiss again. Lance wraps his hands around her hips, groaning softly at the way her breasts feel against him, at the way he can feel her slick against his hip, water or not.

He rocks his hips up against her just for the friction, fucking his tongue into her mouth, and while she’s occupied with curling their tongues together, he reaches between them and slips his fingers over her slit.

The little moan she lets out at the feeling is _so_ cute, as is the way her back arches, rubbing herself against his fingers. Curious, Lance nibbles at her lips as he dips the tip of his finger into her.

Her skin is cool, in line with the temperature of the water, but inside she’s hot and wet, soft around his finger, impossibly slick. Lance groans at that, his free hand moving to cup her breast again as he slides his finger deeper inside of her. Plaxum shivers and leans her head back, bracing her hands on the counter on either side of him. 

“Is that okay?” he whispers, gently nuzzling her cheek.

“Yes,” she breathes. “Yes, it’s wonderful, Lance.” Humming roughly, she leans back enough to catch his lips again, kissing him firmly. He lets her, groaning at the feeling, before slipping his finger deeper and curling it slightly. Plaxum’s breath hitches at that, her eyelids fluttering, before she pulls away. Lance lets her go, albeit mournfully, idly considering seeing what the slick dripping down his knuckles tastes like.

“I would love to have you like this, Lance,” she hums, tilting his chin up with her knuckles. “But you can’t devote yourself to me for the few months it would take me to carry, and I won’t do it alone.” He nods, at which she gives a pleased hum, dragging her thumb over his lips. “There are other options, though, since you can’t carry.”

Lance swallows at that, chewing on his lower lip. She smiles at that, then leans in close and drags her tongue along his lips, dipping inside just for a moment when he parts them obediently. 

Far too soon, Plaxum leans back again, a crooked smile making its way across her face as she reaches down and rubs her fingers over her slit again. It’s at this point that Lance remembers that she apparently has a cock, and he kind of wants to kick himself for how visibly enthusiastic he is about that prospect.

He watches her tease herself, her fingers dipping inside, until finally she coaxes out what he assumes is her cock. It’s dark, dark blue, much darker than the rest of her, long and thick and (god help him) covered in those pale freckles he likes so much. He bites his lip and groans, watching her wrap a hand around herself. It doesn’t really have a head like his, but the tip is curled up in a way that reminds him of one of his favorite toys at the Garrison. He could come just by having that thing vibrating inside him, without even having to thrust it into himself. 

“That looks...” Lance starts, his voice rough with arousal. He swallows to clear his throat somewhat, then glances up at her. “Amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she hums, her thin lips curved into a pleased smile. He glances down in time to see her rubbing the pad of her thumb around the tip, her fingers sliding slowly along the underside. “Would you like to have it?”

“ _God,_ yeah,” Lance blurts before he can stop himself. She just laughs, though, her free hand coming to cover her mouth. “I mean, um. Yes.” He frowns slightly, then squints up at her. “Does it, uh. Ooze acid or anything?”

Plaxum sniffs at that and sticks her nose in the air. “Of course not. Do I look like a quantum basilisk to you?” Before Lance can even begin to picture that, she pulls her hand away from her cock, showing him the thin drips of slick slowly sinking through the water. “It did not burn your fingers, did it?”

“No, it didn’t,” he mumbles. Glancing back up at her he continues, “When you, uh, finish, does anything else happen?”

She blinks widely at him. “Nothing more than more of this.” She pauses, then flushes adorably. “... Quite a lot more.” Lance bites his lip and shivers, more aroused than he ought to be by the idea. Plaxum leans toward him and asks, “Does yours do something?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It’s—well, you’ll see it, probably.” The squint Plaxum gives him makes him squirm slightly, but he can’t really fault her for it. “Listen, I just won’t get it on you, okay? It’s just—messy.”

Plaxum’s antennae do a very interested wiggle. She seems satisfied for the moment, instead choosing to lean forward and kiss him again, soothing him easily.

While they’re kissing, one of Plaxum’s hands comes up to cradle the back of Lance’s head, her narrow fingers caressing his hair through the bubble. He shivers at the feeling, wishing she could fist her hand in it, pull his head back by it. While he’s cursing his fate as an air-breather, Plaxum’s other hand slips between them, and when she drags her thumb over his entrance again, he breathes a quiet, shivering moan against her. 

Plaxum sucks languidly on his lip as he rocks his hips up, giving a pleased hum, before whispering, “How do I go about ‘coaxing’ you open, as you said?” 

Lance whines slightly at that, trying not to get distracted by the thought of her spreading him open with her cock just yet. He swallows and blinks up at her, then frowns. “Well, uh. We need lube. Lubricant.”

She makes a thoughtful sound, turning to look around her workshop, before glancing down at her cock where it’s resting against his hip, still wet with her arousal. He watches her drag her fingers along the length of it, then hold them up to him with a questioning sound. A thin strand of slick stretches between her fingers and floats downward, and once again, Lance wants so badly to know how she tastes.

The trouble would be deciding if he wants to fuck her on his tongue or swallow her cock. He’s never been good at those kinds of decisions.

Shaking himself slightly, Lance glances up at her and shrugs. “Could try it.”

Plaxum nods, then blinks down between them, and she waffles for a second before she sheepishly spreads her fingers and gestures to the webbing.

“O-oh, duh,” Lance mumbles, sitting up slightly. She wouldn’t be able to get her fingers very deep. Besides, her nails are kind of on the long side. “It’s fine, I got it.”

Licking his lips, he lets go of his own arousal and wraps his hand around hers, marveling at how smooth, how slippery it is. Rather than coming from inside her, it seems Plaxum’s slick comes from everywhere, which is convenient for now and only promises to be awesome later. He bites his lip and strokes her slowly, watching as her gills flush bright, her hands once more coming to rest on the counter on either side of him. It brings her close enough for him to kiss, so he does, letting her take control of it while he touches her.

Plaxum shivers when Lance rubs his thumb around her curved tip, as he’d watched her do. Hoping for more of that, of the face she’s making, Lance does it again, smiling against her when Plaxum’s lips part around a gasp, her eyes squeezing shut. 

His hand is dripping with her slick soon enough, so he pulls his hand away from her, albeit somewhat regretfully. She gives him a breathless smile and nuzzles his cheek, then leans back to watch, her black gaze hot on his skin. Never one to pass up the opportunity for a show, Lance slinks down some, then slips his hand between his thighs, rubbing her slick around his entrance before pressing the tip of his finger inside himself.

Lance’s eyes slide closed as he works his finger deeper, his free hand wrapped loosely around his cock, but not moving. He can feel her watching him, checking him out, appreciating the view if the way she hums is any indication. Spreading his thighs wider, Lance presses his finger in as far as it will go, then starts working a second one into himself.

It would be so easy to tease them both like this, but Lance is rapidly losing his patience, and the grip Plaxum has on his thighs is tightening almost possessively. The feeling makes him even more impatient, but he steadies his breathing and focuses, trying his best not to rush. She’s not exactly small, after all.

Once he has three of his narrow fingers buried inside himself, moving easily through her slick, he shifts his hips, then curls his fingers up, finding his prostate with practiced ease. He leans his head back against the wall with a dull _thud,_ a soft whine escaping him. The sound has Plaxum all but purring at him in return, curling her lithe body closer so she can press soft, sweet kisses over his cheeks, brushing past his lips. She’s warmer now than before, he notices, either with his arousal or her own. 

“You must tell me how to make you make that sound myself,” she murmurs into his ear, her voice low, rough with arousal. 

Lance chuckles at that, turning to catch her lips in a brief, sloppy kiss. “It’s easy, promise. Y-you’ll get them out of me whether you want to or not.”

She leans back enough to drag her dark eyes over him, sucking on her lip again. “Oh, I _very_ much want to. It’s easy?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance sighs. He spreads his fingers inside himself once more, then pulls them out, moving his hand to her waist instead. “That little curve you’ve got there will do all the work for you.”

Plaxum laughs softly, her eyes narrowing fondly. “I’m looking forward to it.” She kisses him again, then straightens up, running her hands gently down his chest. “Do you require anything else?”

Shaking his head firmly, Lance scoots his ass closer to the edge of the counter, wrapping one of his legs around her to tug her close. Her slick cock rubs all along the join of his thigh, coaxing a soft moan out of him. He gives her a crooked grin then, squeezing her waist encouragingly. “C’mon, want you to fuck me.”

She blinks at him, like her translator had given up on some part of that, but rather than ask, she just glances down and wraps a hand around herself. Her cock is still flushed so dark, so pretty, and Lance almost wants to take some time to admire it more, to touch her more. She’s steadying herself and pressing against him, though, so he lets it go for now and focuses on staying relaxed for her.

Lance had honestly expected her cock to have a lot more give than it actually does. It had been so soft in his hand, so warm, but as she slides inside of him it feels almost impossibly hard. That curved tip doesn’t seem to have any give at all, either. He can feel it inside himself, rubbing so fucking promisingly against him, and he already knows he’s in trouble here. 

Plaxum’s gonna make a _mess_ of him.

Silently hoping she likes that kind of thing, Lance swallows and exhales shakily, focusing on how it feels to be spread open on her cock.

She’s working herself inside him at such a slow, steady pace, her eyes watching him cautiously, but the way she’s breathing hard kind of leads Lance to believe it’s not just for his sake. She looks so _flustered,_ her flushed gills flaring, the pale freckles on her face coming out as her skin grows darker, her thin lips parted and dark from her teeth. 

He’s kind of struck dumb by how _good_ she looks like this. And how perfectly she fills him up, especially as she bottoms out and gives him a firm little grind, almost as if making sure she can’t get any more of him around her.

“H-how is it?” Plaxum asks after a moment, lifting one shaking hand to caress his face. 

“’S good,” he sighs, wrapping his legs around her waist more securely. He waffles for a moment about where to put his hands, settling for resting them loosely on her back. “You feel nice, Plaxum...”

“Mm, I am glad.” She shivers and grinds into him again, then leans down to bury her face in his shoulder, her teeth idly finding his collarbone. “You feel _amazing,_ Lance. So tight, I never expected—” Cutting herself off with a low groan, Plaxum leans up again, catching his lips almost feverishly.

While they’re kissing, Lance runs his knuckles gently up and down her back, which seems to encourage her further. She deepens the kiss even more, then pulls away with a soft, wet sound, licking her flushed lips. “I-I would like to move,” she sighs, more of a request than anything else. Lance nods eagerly, more than ready for Plaxum to destroy him.

Plaxum spares him a grateful smile, her hips swaying slightly between his thighs, before she leans in for another kiss. While she’s slipping her tongue between his lips, she pulls her hips back, and the way her slick cock drags inside him has him already seeing stars. It’s so _good,_ being filled up like this, that teasing curve a constant presence. She doesn’t pull out far before she rocks forward again, and as she buries herself deep again, both of them give a low, shivering moan.

Lance hasn’t really gotten many sounds out her so far, other than hums and sighs, so hearing her voice sweet with pleasure is incredible. While he still has the brains to do it, he squeezes around her, hoping to hear more of those pretty noises. 

She gasps at the feeling, tilting her head to the side and letting her eyes slide shut. Her hair slips forward over her shoulder again, so Lance brushes it back, then trails his fingers down her chest, rubbing his thumbs over her hard nipples. That earns him a shiver, and another deep grind, but when Plaxum opens her dark eyes again, it’s with a smug, flushed grin that kind of knocks Lance’s breath out of him.

Plaxum shifts herself again, and whatever she adjusted seems to have given her much more leverage, because when she pulls back again, she pulls back farther, then thrusts forward _harder,_ their hips meeting with a wet, muted _slap,_ and all Lance can do is throw his head back with a stuttering gasp.

This time, she keeps going like this, pulling back far and thrusting deep, her rhythm steady and even, even with the way Lance is tightening around her, with the way her teeth keep sinking into her lip.

It feels _amazing,_ and Lance feels himself melting under Plaxum, all but clinging to her. Apparently it’s not enough for her, though, because she hums slightly, squinting down at where they meet, where he’s slick and flushed around her cock. She runs a hand along one of his thighs thoughtfully, then reaches under and bends his knee up higher, closer to where it had been while he was fingering himself.

Lance is almost sad that she figured it out so fast. Almost. Mostly because there’s no _fucking_ way he’s gonna last when she’s fucking him like this, at this angle.

He squirms and arches under her, gasping for air just to moan her name again, his hands gripping her waist tight. That firm curve inside of him is hitting him _just_ right, dragging slick and wet all along his sweet spot, sending sparks flying all through every part of him. He trembles under her, his eyes squeezed shut, rocking as best he can into her steady rhythm, almost wishing she’d just bend him in half and have her fucking way with him.

Plaxum give him a low, pleased moan, slinging his knee over the crook of her arm so she can lean close again. “Lance, you’re so incredible, so good like this...” Lance keens at the praise, his face flushed dark, already feeling himself tightening around her. He’s _so_ hard, his aching arousal rubbing against her soft stomach, but he knows if he touches himself he’ll lose it, and he’s not ready for that yet. 

She picks up on his reaction, though, bending closer to kiss him softly, sweetly. She doesn’t deepen it though, choosing instead to swallow his whimpering moans, drinking in all the sounds he promised she’d get out of him.

“Plaxum, Plaxum,” he gasps, his voice trembling, pleading. “M-more, please, feels _so_ good—”

Humming warmly, she nuzzles into his flushed cheek, then murmurs, “I fear I may not last if I do...”

“It’s okay, god, it’s fine,” he breathes, shifting one hand to her cheek and guiding her into a sloppy, desperate kiss. “I’m almost there too.”

She gives him a crooked smile then, nodding vaguely and kissing him again, before moving her hands to his hips and using her weight to pin him to the counter.

With the way she’s holding him in place, using him to balance herself, Plaxum gives in and fucks him harder, her thrusts starting to lose their rhythm somewhat. She’s slipping even more inside of him, soaking them both with her arousal, but she’s so hard it doesn’t diminish the feeling at all, and certainly takes nothing away from the way her tip is dragging along his sweet spot.

Lance squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a loud, wavering moan, his breath hitching in his flushed chest. He squirms under her, overwhelmed by the way she feels inside him, their hips slamming together roughly with every thrust, her strong hands pinning him down so _easily._ He’s cursing, gasping, crying out for her with every thrust, but still somehow hearing her own soft, rough sounds of pleasure over his own. 

She sounds so _good_ taking him, growing wetter and wetter the closer she gets, until she finally buries her face in his shoulder again and bites down. It’s harder this time, possessive, and most certainly going to leave a mark, and it’s that, and the way she’s muffling her moans against him, and the way her cock is pounding into his sweet spot that sending Lance flying.

He arches as best he can under her, every muscle drawing tense as he _wails_ for her, his hands desperately grabbing at her waist, her hips, her back. She moans for him too, loud and muffled against the bruise she’s working into his shoulder, and the way her hips stutter and twitch, slamming against him in shorter and shorter thrusts, gives away her own orgasm more than anything else. There’s also the sudden rush of slick that pours out of him around her cock, but he can’t really focus on that right now, not when the way she’s grinding into him has her rubbing right into his oversensitive prostate.

Lance twitches under her, trying desperately to gasp for air, but he only really finds it when her hips finally come to a stop, pressed tight against his ass as if she’s still searching for more of his tight heat. 

It takes a bit for both of them to come down out of the clouds, or whatever the equivalent is on this planet. Plaxum still manages to recover first, sighing quietly as she leans up to gaze down at him. He’s still panting, still flushed and shaking, and he’s sure there’s a mess of his come floating in the water between them, but he can’t quite bring himself to care yet.

“Oh,” she murmurs after a moment. “I see what you were talking about.” Lance opens his eyes to find her curiously winding her fingers through the thin, smoky strings of his come. He gives her an embarrassed grin and half a shrug, trying to wave the rest away with one shaking hand. Plaxum just laughs, though, and leans in to kiss him languidly, her hands soft and soothing on his heated skin.

When she pulls out of him, she does so slowly, carefully, and he’s grateful for it, even if it does mean having her curved cock dragging temptingly inside of him. She flushes dark when she looks between them at the mess she’d apparently made of him, and Lance can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about that, not when she looks so goddamn turned on by the sight.

He playfully spreads his thighs wide and gives her a good look, dragging his palms lazily up her sides, along her ribs, until he can cup her breasts again, tweaking one of her dark nipples just to tease. She hums at the feeling, then gives him an almost predatory grin as she leans in and nips lightly at his lips. “If you wish to leave at some point today, paladin, I’d advise keeping your hands to yourself.”

Lance’s cheesy grin just widens. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Plaxum groans at that, leaning her forehead against his bony shoulder. “Oh, if only I could keep you... the fun I could have with you.”

He swallows slightly, almost tempted by the idea. “I-I think I’d make a bad house pet.”

“Mm, and I think that is why I like you so much.” Plaxum leans upright, pausing to kiss him again, before she pulls herself out from between his thighs and stretches. He lets his legs dangle off the edge of the counter as he watches, his dark gaze wandering over her breasts, along the dip of her waist, his eyes effortlessly sliding down her long, muscular tail. She’s stretching that out too, flicking her fins a few times before her curls her tail up enough that she can rub along the base of her fins.

Half-joking, Lance laughs, “Tail fall asleep?”

She blinks up at him, her head tilted curiously. “Do Earth creatures have sentient tails?”

“No, no,” he snickers. He sits up with a groan, giving a long stretch of his own, acutely aware of the way she checks him out in return. “It just means you lost feeling in it, or something.”

“Oh,” Plaxum mumbles, blinking down at her tail. “Something like that. I had it wrapped around the table leg here so I could, ah, go harder.” She gives him an almost shy grin, letting her tail go and folding her hands behind herself. 

Before he can help himself, Lance sighs, “Man, you’re so cute.” He owns it, though, sliding off the counter and moving into her space. It’s a little harder without his suit to help him out, but he still manages to make it close enough to pull her down into a lazy kiss. Her antennae wiggle in a way that seems pleased, before she sinks down some and deepens the kiss.

“Mm, okay, okay,” he finally wheezes, leaning away and drifting back toward the counter. “You gotta put those away or I’m gonna play with them all night.”

Plaxum blinks at him, then down at her chest, before looking back up at him with an absolutely _evil_ grin. “Oh, you mean—” She pushes her arms together, which squishes her breasts together in a manner that’s far, _far_ too tempting for Lance to resist staring at. “These?”

Lance groans at that, then pulls her close again, tugging her through the water so he can bury his face in her cleavage. He continues groaning, albeit muffled, and Plaxum laughs loud and pretty, petting his shoulders fondly.

She’s still giggling when he kisses over her breast to one of her nipples and takes it between his lips, flicking his tongue over it with a low moan, but when he gently presses his teeth against it and tweaks the other between his fingers, her laughter turns low and breathless, her fingers holding him tightly against her.

Lance doesn’t leave her workshop for another few hours, and even then, it’s because Shiro has to threaten to come in and retrieve him himself.

\--

“Oh my god, when will the smugness end?” Pidge groans dramatically, refusing to look anywhere even closely resembling Lance’s direction. 

“Psh, please,” Hunk snorts, bending closer to where he’s soldering... something or other. “Don’t you remember the, like, one time he got laid at the Garrison?”

“No. I have stricken that from my memory. I refuse to live my life with that imprinted on my brain. I deserve better.”

“We all do,” Keith huffs, cranky as ever.

Lance, meanwhile, is happily ignoring all of them, humming and grinning to himself as he scribbles pretty mermaid doodles all over some of Coran’s work. “Hey, princess,” he drawls after a while, looking up to where Allura is contemplating a star map. “When d’you think we can swing by again?”

He’s totally expecting her to shoot him down. Everyone is. So when she clears her throat quietly and crosses her arms, pointedly not looking at anyone, it draws everyone’s attention pretty damn quick.

“Perhaps... we can visit again soon. For—for diplomatic purposes. Queen Luxia has, er, resources and information that would be of great value to me. Us. To us.”

Behind her, Shiro just closes his eyes and sighs, his expression one of weary exasperation. 

“I said for diplomatic purposes!” She turns on Shiro, pointing at him accusingly. “I can _feel_ that, I’ll have you know.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Shiro laughs, holding his hands up in defeat as he turns back to his station.

When Allura turns back around with a huff, she yelps at the way Lance is suddenly _much_ closer, leaning on her station and giving her the kind of smarmy, knowing grin no man should ever have on his face.

“Sooo, princess,” Lance chirps, “Anything you wanna tell me?”

Allura flushes bright and frowns at him, crossing her arms again and pointedly refusing to make eye contact, which really just tells Lance more than he has any business knowing.

**Author's Note:**

> *maui voice* you're welcome
> 
> i have a [tumblr](http://avoidingavoidance.tumblr.com) and a [twittr](http://twitter.com/gaarbage)


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